Tag Archives: fashion

The other Thursday the weather was crisp and dry so I decided to seize the day and pop into Kew Gardens. Here are a series of pictures I took of buds against the dappled light; I think they are pussy willows:

Here’s a landscape format version where the diagonals suggest to me a monochromatic abstract expressionist painting:

Next are some photos I took at the stunning current installation on show at Kew entitled Life in Death by artist Rebecca Louise Law which is on till late March. Her artwork embodies themes of transience and the ephemeral, which are areas that interest me. Her work is also very beautiful; this large scale installation is an intricate display made from Law’s personal collection of plants and flowers, dried and preserved over a six year period:

I saw this young stylish woman whose floral head scarf topped with a lilac pink bow and retro shaggy coat looked fabulous in the setting so asked if I could take her picture. Her name is Farzana:

Farzana’s earrings are delicate, pretty pink flowers . Back outside there are signs of spring as exemplified by this pink dog rose:

Looking through my late father’s old photos I came across some vintage studio postcard images of extended family members that caught my eye. I liked the props – the doll and soft toy:

Again from my father’s collection here’s a photo I really like of my first cousin Ruth – dating approximately from the mid 1950s it is a candid picture of her and her affection for the doll:

Next are some scans of photographs I’ve taken of my sons when they were toddlers with their favourite soft toys. Here’s Dan and his bunny rabbit at an airport lounge circa 1994:

Dan before his appendix operation at the Whittington Hospital – the rabbit is just seen, supine on the hospital bed:

Rafi with toy sword and teddy, on a hot day in Tel Aviv, 1993:

I don’t remember being particularly attached to a soft toy as a baby or toddler. I do remember loving dolls though and was a big fan of Sindy and Tressy – never Barbie – collecting all their clothes and accessories until I gave them all away in one fell swoop in a fit of feeling grown up, at about the age of eleven. However, looking through my own pink baby book, with photos mainly taken by my late father, I notice my attachment to a pink handbag – I believe it was a gift from an American relative. I am between the ages of 3 and 4 and attached to this handbag to the point that I multitask with it. It is a part of me, and present even when riding my tricycle.

Clutching my bag close to me. Outside our home in Stamford Hill, my Bibi (farsi from grandma) and my mum dressed in their Persian lamb coats:

Feeding the birds in Trafalgar Square on a summer’s day:

Action photo! Tricycle ride in the safety of the front courtyard complete with pink handbag:

Next are a couple of street images involving soft toys. I like the quasi-theatrical tableau of soft toys displayed on this passing vehicle, seen in New York last May:

And in Muswell HillI, back in 2009, I came across a man called Paul, with his collection of soft toys. I was struck by the tenderness he communicated::

Soft toys and dolls are considered transitional objects, but what if you are still attached to them as an adult? Here’s my friend Jacqui with her beloved soft toy. The image was part of a project I did in the early 90s on identity fusing past with present:

If anyone can name the boy in the second photograph do let me know! The girl with the doll is Sheila Ebrahimian, now residing in the USA and daughter of the late Faizulla & Devorah Aminoff, and the boy is possibly a member of the Nurieli family.

A few days ago I went for a walk to Swains Lane in Highgate to take take some pictures and try out my new camera lens. It was a lovely autumnal day. On the way back I saw a woman leaning against a tree waiting for the bus. Her hat caught my eye, a warm wool beret with a tartan bow, all spicy shades of ginger, cinnamon and turmeric. She like me, had dark,curly hair. I asked her permission to take a photo and warned her that I might be faffing for a bit as it was a brand new lens!

In a serendipitous coincidence, on Monday night I bumped into the very same woman in Covent Garden. She told me her name is Dorje Khandro:

Here are some other photographs I’ve taken over the years where the hat has been a trigger inspiring me to take a photograph.

My late paternal grandmother, Bibi, (farsi for grandmother), always dressed very formally. Here’s a scan of a photo I took of her circa 1990 when she came over for tea:

Hats and creativity:

I caught sight of this man about to get on the tube at East Finchley. I love the humour and creativity in this hat, and the fact the back of the hat is the focal point with its 2D cardboard cut-out image of a cat’s face and little yellow daffodil next to it.

This man was sitting having a quiet drink in Old Compton Street when I just had to stop and ask him about his cap. His name is Manny and he customised the hat himself with Simpsons lego characters.

Seen on the Portobello Road, I believe this cap started life as a conventional,sober dark grey number. It is now edged in a colourful trim; bold capitals spelling the word LOVE and is extravagantly adorned with feathers, toy camera and miniature red high top boot:

The next two images feature hats with colourful stripes. A crochet hat, in Rasta colours worn by Irina at a London Lucumi Choir rehearsal in 2012. I liked way the knitted flower echoes the sunflowers in the background:

Senior style and hats:

This is the late Francisco, in a rainbow coloured stripey knitted hat, taken at Bar Italia on Valentine’s Day in 2014:

More senior style, this time Opera bound:

Keeping warm on the C2 bus:

Tex from Texas and friend at a bus stop in Old Street, 2013:

I have edited these images down from a large selection, and have not included any images of people in head wraps, which will be a separate blog post. It will undoubtably include the fabulous Garbo Garbo, whom I previously featured on a post on skulls and fashion. Here is another picture I took of Garbo Garbo at Caffe Nero in Frith Street back in 2011:

I’ve also felt compelled to photograph signs that feature hats. The escalators and platform at Kentish Town are extremely windy and the following sign is not an exaggeration:

I also really liked the Japanese street signs that show a man in a wide-brimmed hat walking rather dynamically, with a forward leaning posture:

I was looking through my photos of a California road trip taken earlier this year and came across this image of a lifeguard hut on Santa Barbara beach:

I started thinking about other palm tree imagery I’ve photographed; not in saturated Ibizan sunsets but palm trees in more monochromatic settings. I looked back through my catalogues and found this Calais beach hut with its palm tree decorative motif:

The following two photos were taken following a storm in Terracina, a seaside city in the province of Latina outside Rome:

This attraction to unseasonal palm trees extends to my fashion sense. These are my flip flops; I thought they would be a practical buy as they would satisfy my penchant for tropical motifs but also be wearable in urban environments on warm and dull days.

I even bought this book for its illustrations. The book is The Invention of Morel by Casares and is illustrated by Norah Borges; I’m coincidentally wearing a Bimba y Lola winter skirt which features a tropical jungle print:

I’m consistently drawn to palm trees. Here are some net curtains I spotted a few weeks ago in Lecce, southern Italy:

The next images feature unseasonal palm tree imagery with a more surreal feel – here are a couple I took Miami:

I took some pictures in Camden recently of reflected facades and shadowy figures which were actually mannequins, though I like the ambiguity of not quite knowing whether the shadows are of humans or not:

I started thinking about another image I’d taken in New York, a store in the process of being decorated had mannequins in the window covered with a protective film resembling a shroud, again possessing a certain aura of mystery:

Another visual connection for me is this image taken in Tel Aviv. This bridal store had a veiled mannequin, her face raised to the heavens in a beatific stance. I like the contrast with the dark haired woman’s level headed intense gaze, and the combination of the reflected local architecture and trees:

I recently saw an advert on the London Underground from the Japan National Tourism Organisation who have launched a campaign entitled Japan – where tradition meets the future and it reminded me that I’d been meaning for a while to write a post on this very theme. I wanted to examine this theme using images of fashion, traditional dress, signs and cultural artefacts to illustrate the interplay of Western influences and Japanese culture and tradition.

When I was in Shibuya, Tokyo in late 2015 I was having a coffee at a trendy bar and asked the guys in the picture below if I could photograph them. I liked their style – their immaculate trainers, the white clutch bag, the (Acne Studios?) please call me girl oversized sweatshirt. We had a nice chat. When the guy on the left heard I was from London he went: “Savile Row… I like Savile Row!” The iconic street of British tailoring held mythological status for him.

At another Tokyo cafe, this time the ubiquitous Starbucks. Starbucks, Western and global, a familiar modern safe haven with its free wifi and toilets. When you’re a vegetarian and not in the mood to experiment with unknown foreign cuisine, Starbucks offers a quasi-identical menu in Seattle, London, Tokyo or Shanghai. (I found the egg sandwiches to be much tastier in Japan than in the West though!). This young woman had a short, edgy haircut and was working on her laptop, whilst wearing more traditional dress:

And this one in Starbucks in Kyoto:

Another young girl in full traditional dress crossing the road – I like the contrast between her and her conservatively dressed parents:

Again in Kyoto – It was closing time at a shrine and these beautifully dressed young women were happy for me to take their photo:

Also on the grounds of a temple, the little boy has changed out of his trainers which have the words superstar on the strap and into the traditional geta footwear in preparation for his ceremony.

Juxtapositions in architecture of traditional shrines and modernist high-rises, you can just see the woman paying her respects at the steps:

In the picture below I like the coordinating colours of the ultra-modern building and the blues and ochres of the wall art adorning the Ebiya Art & Antiques gallery. The artwork is a depiction of Ebizo Ichikawa by Shyaraku, an 18th Century woodblock artist noted for his depictions of Kabuki actors.

In Osaka I was interested to see this 21st century variation of traditional Kapanese taiko drums, rows of which are played in Pachinko gaming parlours:

This week I went to see an exhibition at The Barbican Centre called The Japanese House: Architecture and Life after 1945

One of the exhibits is a cherry wood model of a house called Face House in Kyoto, designed in 1974 by Kazumata Yameshita.

I’ve always liked seeing faces in inanimate objects and have several journal posts on the subject, most recently Seeing Faces: the phenomenon known as pareidolia. The exhibition information describes the facade as a visual pun – the public face of a private house, and that the architect’s private joke was an attempt to humanise the city through “the simple manipulation of external articulation”.

Here are a couple of examples of humanising the city by putting cute faces on traffic cones and construction sites. The concept of cuteness in Japanese is known as kawaii. The following picture was taken in Kyoto:

The picture below was shot the Shinjuku area of Tokyo and features the iconic Hello Kitty:

A few weeks ago I visited Rome after a gap of many years. I had wanted to revisit for a while, especially after seeing contemporary films set in Rome by several of my favourite Italian directors: Nanni Moretti, Gianni di Grigorio and Paolo Sorrentino.

I was immediately struck by the architecture and monumentality of Rome, but also the way fashion and the contemporary coexist with historic buildings. I love the terracotta tones of the Roman facades:

Icons of 20th and 21st century western masculinity are added to the visual mix:

Here are some images I took of Catholic religious iconography: in the image below religious figurines are juxtaposed with the reflected facade of a church.

The Pope and Jesus both depicted with raised right hands – the salutation, blessing, waving gesture further extending the notion of connected holiness.

A decorated tram on Via Flaminia; I am not entirely sure what the advert is about but I think it promotes the Pope’s relationship with Jordan in the Middle East. I like the illusory quality; the silhouette of the standing tram passenger appears connected to architectural backdrop of the advert.

Here is a contemporary artwork on the theme of Adam and Eve by street artist Mr.Minimal

Here are some pictures I took around the area of the Colosseum. The first three images feature graffiti and text: Below, No Stopping signs with a chalk I love you:

An obscured view of The Colosseum with stickers and graffiti:

There is restoration taking place at the site and I like the fake illusionistic arches that show the intended reconstruction:

In the 1920s my paternal grandparents left Iran for Palestine before settling in the UK in 1928. Here’s a photograph from that era showing my grandparents all dressed up. David Aminoff, who I knew as BOBO is in a top hat and is holding a cane and his wife Dvora aka BIBI is wearing a fur coat – possibly squirrel – and has a clutch bag and cloche hat. They are both wearing leather gloves. I don’t know the occasion and cannot identify the leafy, domestic location. What I find striking is the relishing of an appearance of dapper, sophisticated Britishness:

The image is embossed at the bottom where I can make out the name of the photographer and studio address – R. Mason of Lower Clapton Road. My grandparents lived in Stamford Hill and must have used the local photographer to mark this formal occasion.

I’m in the process of adding images and text to my ancestry project. Do check it out!

I went to see the Sonia Delaunay exhibition at the Tate Modern and have to say that for me it was the most enjoyable exhibition I’d seen for a while. I especially like her early work which features in the first few rooms as the exhibition is chronological. I seem to be particularly drawn to European paintings made between 1906 and the beginning of the first world war – particularly the experimentation with abstraction, bold colour and also the influences of non-western art.

So I’m usually a law-abiding citizen and respect the no-photography rules in blockbuster exhibitions. However on this occasion I couldn’t resist and got very excited when I saw a woman in a multi-coloured highly decorative coat, scarf and bag standing in front of Delaunay’s Electric Prism! I had to get out my phone and snap her merging with the painting. I reckon that Delaunay herself would have appreciated the visual coincidence, with her interest in fashion design and the theory of simultanism which she developed together with her artist husband Robert Delaunay.

I had a similar experience a few years ago at a Yayoi Kusama show where a an exhibition-goer was wearing a decorative hoodie that seemed to merge with one of her works. Once again I couldn’t resist …. (see my earlier post on Camouflage)

Yesterday I had the privilege of seeing the Buena Vista Social Club at the Royal Albert Hall; the London leg of Adios – their farewell world tour. I thought it was a great concert and was moved, immersed and entertained. One of the highlights was Omara Portuondo’s performance – she is still in fine voice at the age of 84 and an incredibly powerful, charismatic and beautiful performer. She is also effortlessly stylish from the top of her head wrapped head to the soles of her feet (which seemed to be in comfortable decorative Birkenstock-type sandals). Here’s a picture I took of her with my phone:

Adios

Years ago – probably the late 1990s I was working at the BBC and I caught sight of Omara in the ladies loos at Bush House. I asked if I could take her picture and she kindly obliged. Her grace, glamour and style are evident – almost a surreal juxtaposition with the utilitarian, dull backdrop of the Bush House toilets!

This got me thinking about another glamorous mature woman I’d photographed in 2009; this time in the loos of a North London Adult Education Centre. This woman is a visual artist – I think she’s a ceramicist or sculptress. She was actually in white protective gear. I feel she has the retro elegance of a Contessa!